


Physical

by bactaqueen



Category: AFI
Genre: Dancing, First Time, M/M, strip club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2287211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boys' night out turns into an eventful boys' night in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Physical

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is entirely coincidental.
> 
> Author's Note: Originally posted March 2006.

It was someone else's idea of a good time, not his. Davey looked around. Jade, Adam, Hunter, RJ, Smith, and Mikey--they weren’t drunk yet but they were getting there and they seemed to be having plenty of fun on the way.  
  
Idle and almost bored, Davey sipped his water. The club wasn’t one of those trendy places that let women in, but neither was it one of the sleazy ones with rubber floors. The audience was all male, upper-middle class; they probably had kids who knew AFI, but didn’t recognize them on their own. Even if they glanced a few extra times in Davey’s direction, they didn’t really care. Girls were everywhere, more than it seemed there should be for a weeknight. Some of them were beautiful and some only pretended to be. In the darkness, it didn’t really matter. Davey eyed their costumes and had to repress a wince. Garish bikinis and cheap lingerie abounded. Some of the girls were in other costumes, playing their roles in every clichéd male fantasy Davey could imagine. He sighed quietly. Strip clubs always depressed him to an extent, but a large part of him was just happy to be with his friends, no matter where they were.  
  
His chair spun and he jumped in his seat. A woman stood before him, her hands braced on either side of him and her fingers wrapped around the arms of the chair. She was short, curved in all the right places. Dark hair fell around her pretty face and she was smiling at him so genuinely that Davey smiled back warmly. Even her costume was cute: black and red lace, a skimpy g-string and a push-up bra that he quickly realized gave her more cleavage than she was naturally endowed with.  
  
She brought her hands up to his shoulders and moved in just enough to push her small breasts near his face. He was momentarily distracted, tracing the shapes of the cups with his eyes and lingering on the bulge of soft-looking flesh above the lace. It was all the time she needed to shimmy between his legs and lean in. Her warm breath on his skin broke his contemplation of those tantalizing bits of her anatomy.   
  
“My name is Shannon and I’ll be your stripper this evening.” Her voice held a teasing quality. She ran her fingers down his chest, nails catching on the soft cotton of his old band t-shirt. There was a smile in her words when she explained, “Your friends think you need a little one-on-one encouragement.”  
  
Shannon, Davey realized, smelled like his favorite body wash. His smile became a smirk. What the hell, he thought. I may as well enjoy this. She obviously had decent taste, after all. So he leaned back a bit and met her eyes. “Well? What have you got?”  
  
She leaned back and matched his smirk. “The moves--” She popped her hips to the side and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “--to make this worth your while.”  
  
He didn’t doubt that. With a sardonic little smile, he lifted his hips and fished out two of the bills he’d tucked into his pocket for just such an instance. He held his fingers up, the cash tucked between them. “Can you teach me?” He settled back into his chair.  
  
Her laughter sounded like music and it made him like her even more. She plucked the money from his fingers, then bent forward to give him a show as she tucked it into her bra. Part of his mind tried to focus only on the sight of that, but as her body began to move to the beat of the music, he found himself inexorably grounded.  
  
“What do you want to know?” she asked.  
  
Davey glanced across the table. Hunter was in his own seat, fingers wrapped around the neck of his beer bottle, a leering smile plastered to his face as he watched the blonde in front of him shake her ass.  
  
Then Shannon was in Davey’s lap, her legs spread over his thighs, and her back arched.  
  
He whispered to her, “The one with the shaved head. I want him.”  
  
Shannon rolled her hips to grind her ass against his crotch. Her head fell back and she held her lips near Davey’s jaw. She was smiling still when he looked down.   
  
“Ah, honey.” She winked. “I can show you that.”

 

***

  
Easy listening replaced the dance music but the DJ didn’t turn the volume down. The lights came up just enough for the dazed men to see their way around. Some left, some headed for the bar, some found their ways to the private rooms in back, and some stumbled down the hall to the toilets. Most of the girls disappeared behind the curtains that lined the wall at the rear of the stage. But Davey’s group--and its girls--remained.  
  
Shannon was laughing as she tugged Davey out of his chair. Smiling, he followed her and let her draw him up on the stage. She’d made it fun for him and if she wanted to dance, he wouldn’t deny her. In front of the gaudy pole, she pressed close and guided his hands up over their heads. He followed the rhythm of her body and smiled down into her face.  
  
The DJ changed the music again, replaced the easy listening with something hard and dark and thrumming. Davey let himself get into it, picking up the beat and adding his own flourish. She grinned wickedly up at him as soon as he relaxed. A moment later, she worked down to her knees in front of him.  
  
He looked down at her, saw the darkness in her eyes and knew exactly what she was thinking because he was thinking it, too. Heat crept up Davey’s neck as Shannon licked her lips and smirked up at him. Once his friends started the hoots and whistles, Shannon’s lips split in a grin and she slid up his body. The rules said “no touching” but she’d broken them so many times, what was once more?  
  
She used him as if he were the pole, wrapping one leg around his waist and arching so far back that he felt obligated to hold her thigh and the small of her back to keep her steady. It only occurred to him when she was grinding against him that it was just what she wanted.   
  
Over the line of her body, Davey saw Hunter at the edge of the stage, half-shrouded in the strange shadows. He was leaning forward in his chair, fresh beer on the table beside him, smirking as he watched. Heat spread through Davey and it wasn’t just from the heat Shannon was creating.  
  
When the song was over, Shannon snapped her body up. She dropped her leg and pushed her fingers through Davey’s hair, then pecked his cheek.  
  
“All yours, now,” she whispered.  
  
Then she was gone and Davey was standing all alone on the stage. A new song picked up and his friends started hooting and applauding. Davey laughed. He turned his back on them and shook his ass as he pushed his hair over his shoulder. Might as well give them a show. He always did like being the center of attention.  
  
Smith’s whistle rose above the racket made by the rest of them. Obnoxiously, he shouted, “Take it all off, baby!”  
  
Davey ran his fingers through his hair and tugged just enough for that spark of pleasurable pain to shoot through him. He bent back. Upside down, he winked at Smith.  
  
“Nope.”  
  
He twisted and faced them all, then dropped to his hands and knees. He moved his shoulders and hips to the beat as he crawled--slinked--to the edge of the stage. Hunter was closest and could therefore be approached without arousing suspicion. He wanted to arouse something else, though.  
  
Davey knelt in front of Hunter, hips tilted and pelvis thrust forward. His hands went to his hair and he tugged sharply. Mouth open, eyes half-lidded, Davey leveled his gaze at Hunter. Fuck me. It was part of the act; that was the way he wanted it to look. He wanted Hunter to see through that act, though, and see the reality of it. For good measure, Davey dropped his head back and parted his lips in an “oh” and remembered the best orgasm he ever had.  
  
Hunter’s laughter--throaty and good-natured--was the only laughter he heard. Davey raised his head again and found that Hunter was standing and moving forward. There was cash in his hand and he waved it at Davey as he leaned in. Davey froze, watching, and Hunter tucked the bill into the fly of his pants. Davey gasped quietly when Hunter’s knuckles brushed against his erection and gasped again when Hunter gave his thigh an affectionate squeeze.  
  
The white lights dimmed and the whirling colored ones came on. As another song started, the stage began to vibrate with the pounding stilettos of the new shift. Blushing some and licking his dry lips, Davey slid off the stage and pulled the money from the fly of his pants. One of the waitresses had reappeared and she was leaning against Adam’s chair, her arm along his shoulders, a smile on her face as she looked down at him. Davey paused beside her and handed her the money.  
  
“Water for me,” he said over the rising din. “Whatever he wants, too, please?”  
  
The girl nodded.  
  
Davey felt flushed and almost smug as he took his seat. He slumped and pretended to watch the girls on stage as he replayed the feel of Hunter's hand on his thigh. Unable to help himself, he glanced over, across the table, and found Hunter watching him.   
  
Hunter winked.   
  
Pleased and hopeful, Davey sank into his seat. He thought of the roomkey in his pocket and smiled. It opened the same door Hunter's did.

 

***

  
Hunter toyed with his keycard as he waited in the hall outside their door, watching Davey make his way from Adam's room. He caught Davey’s eyes when he looked up; an easy smile curved his lips.  
  
When Davey was closer, Hunter slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. He started in, telling Davey over his shoulder, "You should incorporate your new moves into the stage show."  
  
Davey followed him in. He shut the door behind himself and locked it. "Yeah?"  
  
Hunter crossed the room and dropped into the chair next to the table near the window, then leaned forward to untie his shoelaces. His movements were slightly sluggish; Davey hoped it was because of the hour and not the number of drinks.  
  
"Yeah." Hunter shot Davey a hooded look. "I almost asked for an encore."  
  
In the little foyer, Davey kicked off his shoes and left them against the wall. His smile was small; Hunter was slightly drunk and he was feeling bold. He stalked slowly into the room, putting the sex he felt into his walk, running his fingers through his hair as though he was combing it out. He took the time to really look at Hunter sitting back in the chair, legs spread, head cocked, arms draped over the sides.  
  
"Only almost?" Davey prompted.  
  
Hunter's drunk-bright eyes swept over Davey and his lips twisted into a knowing smirk. "You up for a private performance?"  
  
Davey hid the grin that threatened under an expression/ that was appropriately seductive. "Do you think you can handle me?" He affected the tone of the strippers he'd heard earlier in the evening, gave a toss of his head, and licked his lips playfully.  
  
Hunter laughed. "You're definitely a handful," he conceded, "but I think I can take you."  
  
It was more than just teasing between friends. Davey was almost painfully aware of this. They were alone in a hotel room. He knew what Hunter was like when he was buzzed--he’d seen the girls, heard the screams from the other side of the wall. And he wanted that. He looked at Hunter and wondered if he knew it.  
  
"Music?" Davey suggested.  
  
Hunter shook his head and patted his thigh. "I'm waiting."   
  
There was no question about what it was, Davey realized. He couldn't blame it on a sexy song or the atmosphere. Hunter could say he was drunk, but Davey could only blame being an attention whore... if he could even manage that. Courage spiked through him. None of that mattered. He wanted it badly enough to face whatever came later.   
  
A slow beat started in his head and Davey swayed his hips to it. He offered his fingers to Hunter, searching his face through the veil of his hair, then turned away. There was no reason to play coy. Not anymore, at least. He danced back and sank to Hunter's lap.  
  
Hunter's body was warm. Davey rested his head on Hunter's shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Hunter's strong jaw, the angles of his face. He reached up before he thought and stroked fingers down the line of that jaw as he grinded his ass against the bulge in Hunter's jeans.   
  
Davey smirked. He couldn't help teasing. "Enjoying yourself?"  
  
Hunter wrapped his fingers around Davey's wrist, right at the line where his tattoos ended, and slid the other hand across Davey's thigh.  
  
"Very much so," he said. He turned his head and lowered his voice. "But I can think of something we'd both enjoy more."  
  
Davey's breath caught and he was suddenly very aware of his hard cock straining against his pants... and the hand rubbing slowly and surely at it through them. It seemed so clear, but he had to be sure he understood.  
  
"Don't the rules say 'no touching'?" His voice when he spoke was breathless.  
  
"No touching girls." Hunter gripped Davey's cock through the pants. "You're not a girl."  
  
Davey's head snapped back. "Oh" came out, half as a word, half as a moan. His grinding had lost its rhythm; it wasn’t for show anymore, just invitation.  
  
A moment later, Davey was thrown over the rickety table. His hands flew up and he curled his fingers around the far edge. He squeezed his eyes shut as Hunter yanked his pants down. He was so hard, so needy it hurt and made him shake. The plan was to turn Hunter on; it seemed to have gotten him just as well. Davey pressed his forehead to the cool tabletop and, without prompting, spread his legs as far apart as his pants would allow. He could only imagine how he looked: tight pale ass bare, the tips of his wings peeking from beneath the hem of his shirt, legs spread... Davey moaned at the thought of it.  
  
Hunter used one hand to hold his asscheeks apart and tapped the hot bud of his hole with one rough fingertip. The other hand groped in the pocket of Davey's pants before closing around the small bottle of lube he found there.  
  
"I knew you had it on you," Hunter grunted. He ran the rounded edge of the bottle up the back of Davey's thigh.  
  
Davey whimpered.  
  
The cap snapped open and Hunter poured the lube on him. A moment later, Davey heard Hunter's belt come open and zipper come down. He rocked impatiently against the finger pressing into him. Davey bit his lip. He wanted to scream but he didn’t know if he could; he didn't know if it would bother Hunter for him to make enough noise for someone to hear. He arched his back as one thick finger pushed into him. Fuck. He decided that he wouldn't care if Hunter gagged him as long as he fucked him.  
  
Hunter nudged the wet and swollen head of his cock against him. Davey arched his back and bore down, ready for it. Hunter pushed in and Davey released a long, low groan; his inner muscles rippled and constricted and he finally felt full. He closed his eyes and tightened his fingers around the edge of the table. Fuck yeah.  
  
Something clattered to the table and Hunter's hands closed around Davey's hips. He gripped hard, pulled his hips back, and slammed in. It was like someone had screamed "go!" Hunter was off. His breath came harder and faster, harsher with each pant. The slam of his long hard cock, over and over, drove Davey forward again and again. Hunter felt bigger each time. Davey pressed his forehead to the table and bit his lip, tearing at his ring until he tasted his own blood. His nails dug in to the soft particle board under the edge of the table. Hunter was fucking him so hard the table was jumping.   
  
Davey screamed.  
  
It spurred Hunter on. His thrusts came harder and each one jabbed sharply at the hard little bundle of nerves inside Davey, at the place that sent searing pleasure rolling through his body. Each rock of the table pressed his hard cock between the soft shirt covering his hot belly and the unforgiving surface of the table. Davey humped furiously, moving to meet Hunter's thrusts and putting pressure on his cock.  
  
Davey was only aware that the chant of Hunter's name was coming from him when he realized that Hunter's thrusts were growing erratic as they picked up speed.   
  
Sudden stillness preceded the explosion of Hunter inside him and the low guttural scream that he gave.  
  
A surprised cry was torn from Davey's own lips as he came hard, shooting hot and wet between his shirt and the table.   
  
For long moments, the room was silent save for their ragged breathing and everything was still. Then Hunter's hands moved from Davey’s hips to his ass and squeezed as he pulled out.   
  
Davey pushed himself up and turned to face Hunter. Confusion licked at the edges of his mind until he saw the sated grin on Hunter's face.  
  
"Let's not put that in the stage show.” His voice was rough, almost hoarse.  
  
Laughter bubbled up and spilled from Davey’s mouth and he shook his head. "No." Hunter’s lips twitched and he turned to strip out of his clothes. Davey fought his drooping eyelids to watch.  
  
Hunter crawled into one of the big beds and pulled a pillow close. He yawned and settled on his side. "Good night, Dave," he mumbled sleepily.  
  
A smile curved Davey's lips. "Night, Hunter."  
  
He waited until Hunter was asleep before he moved. Davey tugged his pants up just enough for him to make his way stiffly to the bathroom. He felt the ghost of Hunter inside him, the fullness left over. He didn't want to lose that, just the mess on his front. He showered quickly, scrubbing face, belly, and ass, then stepped out and dried off. A heavy feeling suffused his limbs. He was warm, full, sated... and very sleepy.   
  
Back in the room, with all the lights off, Davey stood at the edge of the bed and looked at Hunter in the moonlight that slid through the blinds. He was asleep, snoring softly... and leaving half of the big bed empty. Davey stared. Hunter normally took over the whole thing. Parked himself in the middle and sprawled out and didn't budge all night. Only taking half the bed... Davey traced the slope of Hunter's nose with his eyes as he thought. It was like an invitation.   
  
Very carefully, Davey crawled into bed behind Hunter. He took the other pillow and settled on his back, half-turned to face his bedmate. As he drifted to sleep, he considered how simple the comfort of another warm body in your bed could be.

 

***

  
Davey woke wrapped snugly around a warm body, his face buried against a neck covered in two days' worth of stubble, and a hard cock pressed to his own.  
  
He opened his eyes.   
  
Hunter yawned widely and squeezed Davey's shoulders. "I didn't think you were ever going to wake up," he mumbled.  
  
Davey blinked a few times.   
  
Hunter pressed a quick, closed-mouthed kiss to his lips. His eyes slipped shut and he raised fingers to stroke them through his hair. When he broke the kiss, he licked his lips and smiled sleepily down at Davey.  
  
"Mmm... Morning. You sleep well?"  
  
Davey couldn’t decide if he was confused or still sleepy. He mumbled something inarticulate that made Hunter's smile widen. Hunter tugged his hair gently, then rolled away.   
  
"I get the shower first, princess," he said. Then he was off the bed and padding toward the bathroom.   
  
For a long time after the shower started up, Davey lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. There were a lot of things he might have expected from Hunter the morning after, but what had just transpired wasn't any of them. Davey began to wonder just what it was he'd started.


End file.
